“If my inner wild magic remains concealed, then we might get away with saying the wellspring was still unrestrained when we created those spells and that its presence was unintentional.”
Monty snorted. “And how many of the witches who’ve stepped into this café have actually believed that statement?”
“Not many, but remember, Clayton’s memories are of an underpowered sixteen-year-old. He won’t be looking for anything more.”
“And if you can keep shielding as well as you are at the moment,” Belle said, “it gives us a slight advantage over the bastard.”
“Maybe.” I scooped up some chocolate cake and munched on it contemplatively. “Monty, did your dad have any success digging out the marriage certificate?”
He shook his head. “The priest who performed the ceremony died a few years later—”
“Isn’t that convenient,” Belle said, voice dry.
“He was older than Methuselah when he performed the ceremony,” I said. “I’m surprised he lasted a few years—I’d have thought a few days would have been stretching it.”
“Why is his death a problem?” Belle asked. “The marriage would have been registered with the Witch Registry of Births, Deaths, and Marriages—”
“And, by law, access to such a record is restricted for sixty years,” Monty said. “Liz can certainly request a copy of it, as can an attorney on her behalf, but my father can’t.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe that’s what I need to do, though it will out the situation to everyone up there, and that may make things worse.”
“I’m not entirely sure they can get worse, especially given it will take time for the request to be processed,” Monty said. “And even if we do get the certificate, it doesn’t actually prove his guilt.”
“It proves she was underage when it happened,” Belle retorted.
“Which doesn’t mean anything if there was parental approval—and there was.”
“Yeah, it was just the bride that didn’t approve.” I scooped up more chocolate cake. “And how in the hell are we supposed to prove that? It’ll be my word against that of my parents and him—and we all know who the courts are likely to believe.”
“There is one way,” Monty said. “But it will mean reliving everything that happened.”
“And?” I said, as he ate some more cake rather than continuing.
“Well, didn’t you say Ashworth had asked the Black Lantern Society to do a little underground investigating?”
“Yes, but the records are locked down magically and they can’t access them without alerting either my father or Clayton.”
“Which is just another pointer to the influence they have in Canberra,” Belle said, voice dry. “And while locking a record in such a manner is illegal, it’s more a misdemeanor few will quibble about.”
“Except for the fact that their actions point to guilt more than innocence,” Monty said. “And it gives the Society a legal reason to get involved. They’re not just underground purveyors of justice—they also have a history of representing less-fortunate witches against the High Council in court cases. As such, they have both attorneys and truth seekers on their books.”
“Truth seekers?” Belle asked. “Is that a psychic or magical talent?”
“It’s a bit both, really. They usually work with an auditor, who records the session and ensures everything being done is above board and legal.”
“Great, but how’s that going to help us?” I asked.
“Simple. We get Ashworth to request a seeker ASAP. They record what happened for posterity, and when Clayton makes a move on you, we threaten to take him and your father to court. They may be powerful, but they aren’t above the law.”
“I’m not entirely sure of that.” My voice was grim. “I’d hazard a guess that my father is on first-name terms with at least half of the presiding judges.”
Monty’s smile was rather fierce. “And the Black Lantern Society has the pull and the power to request none of them preside over the case.”
“If this society is so powerful, how come they’re not more well-known?” Belle said. “I can’t remember hearing anything about them when we were up there.”
“We were teenagers,” Monty replied dryly. “It’s not like we paid a whole lot of attention to the legal happenings of the world.”
“True, I guess.”
He reached across the table and grabbed my hands. “Liz, if you want to be free from Clayton, then you have to take the fight to him. What he and your father did was not only wrong, but also illegal. We know that, they know that. That’s why they’ve kept their search for you under the radar; it’s why Clayton has made no mention of it in nearly thirteen years. They want you back, but in a manner that will raise few suspicions.”
“And Clayton suddenly appearing with a reluctant wife in tow won’t raise any suspicions at all now, will it?” Belle said, her tone sarcastic.
“Well, no, because she’s no longer sixteen. In fact, I expect most would consider it an advantageous marriage for Liz, considering her lack of magical strength.”
I pulled my hands from Monty’s and rubbed my forehead wearily. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s the fact that he won’t play fair, which means we really have no choice but to fight him any way we can. I’ll talk to Ashworth tomorrow.”
“Good,” Monty said. “In the meantime, let’s get the protections around this place shored up.”
He picked up his coffee and strode toward the reading room without waiting for either of us.
Belle’s gaze met mine, her expression one of tolerant amusement. You can’t fault his determination to keep you safe.
Keeping me safe also keeps his future wife safe. I pushed away from the table with a laugh as she tried to whack me. You enjoyed his company tonight, and we both know it.
Well, yes, but please don’t tell him that. He’ll be unbearable.
“Ladies, stop the secret squirrel business and get your butts in here.”
“He’s not going to attack again tonight.” I picked up my coffee and followed Belle into the reading room. “He’ll wait until he thinks we’ve relaxed a little.”
“Expect the unexpected is a
